


Drown Off This Wave

by lamentforboromir



Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Felching, Filth. This is filth., M/M, Mild spoilers for Chapter 529, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 02:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamentforboromir/pseuds/lamentforboromir
Summary: Isshin just wants a drink. Kyoraku and Ukitake have something else in mind.





	Drown Off This Wave

**Author's Note:**

> Hello OT3 that literally no one ever asked for. 
> 
> HUGE THANKS to Mary and Nic, who encouraged me and read over this for me and screeched at me about That One Part. I love you guys so much it's kind of stupid. 
> 
> Title from "Drip Too Hard" by Lil Baby & Gunna, and you know I'm going for the low-hanging fruit with that title.

It’s an unremarkable midsummer night and Captain Shiba Isshin finds himself at a small izakaya just outside his division, sitting alone, drinking sake, and otherwise avoiding all responsibilities. 

That’s not unusual in and of itself. He has budget reports to complete by tomorrow, as well as new recruit assignments to review, and not for the first time does he wonder why he bothered with a captaincy anyways. The academy had certainly led him to believe that this job was more swordsmanship than paperwork, and while he would have preferred to just drop in on recruit training tomorrow and knock them around with a bokken until they got whipped into shape, _apparently_ he was expected to read over their qualifications beforehand.

Ridiculous, he thinks, swirling the sake in his cup before he takes another sip. Like they don’t trust him to do his job without having a mountain of paperwork to show for it. Shouldn’t that be a secretary’s job, anyway? 

Immediately, his mind turns to his incredibly capable Third Seat, and he wonders if he can manage to pawn off the reports on Toshiro in exchange for more bankai training. 

He’s entertaining that very idea when he hears voices filtering through the door, laughing in hushed tones. As he turns to identify the source, he’s met with the sight of Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake strolling in, sharing some joke between them. They don’t seem to notice Isshin as they approach a table, too caught up in each other, Kyoraku’s hand resting lightly on Ukitake’s back. 

Isshin quirks up a brow as he watches them settle. It’s no secret that they’ve been together for the last half a millenium, but it’s never more apparent than times like these, when they ignore everyone else in favor of each other. If Isshin hadn’t seen them fight together first hand, he’d never believe that they could have the capacity to be aware of anyone else around them, especially when they’re talking and laughing like this. As it is, he clears his throat, watches as they stop mid-sentence. “Captains.” 

Both Kyoraku and Ukitake turn to face Isshin, eyes wide. Isshin gives them a little wave. “Captain Shiba!” Ukitake says, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “We weren’t expecting to see you here!” 

“May we join you?” Kyoraku asks, already approaching. Isshin shrugs before he waves them over, watches them settle onto the cushions on the other side of the table. Kyoraku calls out an order for another tokkuri of sake while Ukitake just smiles at Isshin. There’s something unexpectedly calming about Ukitake’s presence, and Isshin feels the line of his shoulders relax as Ukitake asks, “So what are you up to tonight?” 

“Ignoring my captainly duties,” Isshin says honestly, smirking around a sip from his cup. “And you?”

Ukitake gives him a gentle laugh in response. “Something like that,” he replies, graciously accepting the cup of sake that Kyoraku offers him.

“It seemed like a nice night for a drink,” Kyoraku says, raising his own cup to his lips. “I think you had the right idea, Captain Shiba.” 

Isshin huffs out a laugh at that, smile growing a little wider. “Now if only the rest of my division thought so,” he mutters playfully. “Think you could explain that to my Lieutenant and Third Seat?”

“I’ll make the appropriate arrangements,” Kyoraku jokes, and it’s enough to make Isshin flash a grin his way. 

He glances over to Ukitake, cocking his head to the side when he realizes that Ukitake hasn’t sputtered out a cough since they arrived. As a matter of fact, he seemed perfectly fine at yesterday’s Captain’s Meeting, too. “Feeling better?” he asks. 

“I am, thank you,” Ukitake answers. “I’ve had several good days in a row, to tell you the truth.” Ukitake’s smile is a small, charming thing, and Isshin has no idea why he feels his face heat up. “Taking advantage of it while I can.” 

“He originally wanted to rush home to celebrate,” Kyoraku tells Isshin in a low voice, quirking his brows up. He smirks when a blush settles high on the bridge of Ukitake’s nose, and Isshin hides his face behind his sake cup, feeling distinctly like he shouldn’t be hearing this. But Kyoraku keeps chuckling, continues with, “But then, we wouldn’t have stumbled upon you here. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Isshin says, deciding not to think much of it. They drink in companionable silence for a while, chatting occasionally about mundane division affairs, and Isshin watches as Ukitake shifts to lean just slightly against Kyoraku. Between that and Kyoraku’s teasing, he figures it must be the work of the alcohol. It’s nothing overt, after all, just a gentle touch as Kyoraku trails his fingers down the length of Ukitake’s arm, and for a moment, Isshin wonders if he should excuse himself. It feels like he’s intruding on something intimate, but Kyoraku’s eyes flash towards him, all but pinning Isshin in place. 

There’s something strangely calculating in Kyoraku’s gaze, raking over Isshin’s chest, and if Isshin didn’t know any better, he’d say he was being sized up. Ukitake’s eyes flick over him, too, lips twitching into a small smile as he settles more firmly against Kyoraku. 

“Do you have any other plans after this?” Kyoraku asks, voice light and conversational. But there’s something else implied there, making Isshin quirk an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. 

He takes another drink, answers with, “No, besides going back to my quarters and avoiding any real work, like usual.” 

Something in Ukitake’s eyes glitter, and Kyoraku just chuckles at Isshin’s answer, the sound low and filthy. “Indeed,” he says, before turning to look at his lover. The two of them share a look that Isshin can’t decipher, and his lips purse as Ukitake just grins, Kyoraku brushing his hands along his shoulders. With a little nudge, Kyoraku leans in to whisper words just loud enough that Isshin can hear. “Perhaps you should be the one asking him, Jushiro.” 

Playfully swatting at Kyoraku’s arm, Ukitake turns to Isshin, fixing him with a radiant smile. Beside him, Kyoraku tucks an errant strand of silky white hair behind his ear. “Normally we would engage you in a little more conversation,” Ukitake starts, friendly as ever, “but the truth is, we’ve had you in mind for a while, and well…” He laughs a little, looking up at from Isshin from under his lashes. “We were wondering if you would like to join us tonight after drinks.” 

Isshin pauses mid-sip, blames the flushing of his face and the heat pooling in his gut on the alcohol. He must be reading too much into this, there’s no way he’s hearing them correctly.

Is he?

“What did you have in mind?” he asks after a long moment, mildly cautious. 

Kyoraku and Ukitake turn to each other, just long enough to exchange knowing smirks before they look back at Isshin, desire clear in both of their gazes. Isshin nearly chokes on his drink. 

Oh _hell_.

*

“Fuck,” Isshin groans, voice shaking as Ukitake licks around the crown of his cock, lapping up the precome that beads there. As soon as they had finished their drinks, Isshin had followed Ukitake and Kyoraku to the Squad Five Captain’s quarters, and immediately, they pounced, Kyoraku roughly palming him through his hakama while Ukitake dragged him in for a filthy kiss. Now, he’s on his knees, wearing his open kosode and nothing else, bucking his hips forward until the crown of his cock slides past Ukitake’s soft lips. He can’t hold back the moan that escapes his throat when he says, “Remind me to go drinking with you two more often.” 

Kyoraku’s answering chuckle is a low, dark thing. He’s positioned on his knees behind Ukitake, dragging Ukitake’s hakama down his pale hips. Ukitake has already lost his haori and kosode, laying out on hands and knees while he pays worshipful attention to Isshin’s cock, spreading his legs for Kyoraku behind him. The lighting is low in this main part of the room, just a brazier lit in the corner that casts them in a warm glow, but Isshin can swear he sees something wet and glistening on Kyoraku’s fingers. “The invitation is always open,” Kyoraku says, smile clear in his voice just before he makes Ukitake groan by fucking a finger in and out of his ass with a flick of his wrist. 

The sound Ukitake makes as Kyoraku adds another finger practically reverberates around Isshin’s cock, possesses him to grab at that long, beautiful white hair and tug. It’s a gentle yank, but still Ukitake’s eyes slip closed as he moves his mouth, lips wrapped tightly around Isshin’s shaft as he bobs his head. 

He’s half convinced that the liquor is making him see things, because it doesn’t feel quite real to watch Ukitake’s mouth working around his cock, or to look up and see Kyoraku leering at them, hunger evident in his grey eyes. “Pull his hair a little harder,” Kyoraku suggests. He leans in to pepper kisses at the base of Ukitake’s spine, just above the curve of his ass. “He likes that.” 

Ukitake pulls off Isshin’s cock, wrapping his hand around the shaft and pumping it with a practiced rhythm. “I’m right here, you know,” he says, almost mildly, before leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside of the shaft. His eyes glint devilishly up at Isshin as he does it, dragging the tip of his tongue against the most sensitive part of the frenulum. “But he’s right.” 

_Fuck_ , but there shouldn’t be something so unnerving and attractive about the prim, soft-spoken Captain of Squad Thirteen smirking up at him, artfully wrapping his lips around the head of Isshin’s prick. With another broken groan, Isshin pulls at Ukitake’s hair harder, wrapping it around his fist and tugging him forward until he feels Ukitake’s throat sputter around his cock. 

String of good days or not, it can’t be good for his chronic cough, but Ukitake keens for Isshin’s cock nudging against the back of his throat anyway, and despite his flash of guilt, Isshin snaps his hips forward again just to hear the sound grow louder. He looks up to see Kyoraku leaning behind Ukitake, face buried in Ukitake’s ass as he fucks him with his hand, tongue tracing around his fingers. Kyoraku laughs again, muffled against Ukitake’s skin, says in a wicked voice, “I think he liked that, Captain Shiba,” before pressing his tongue back inside Ukitake’s ass. Isshin can hear it, too, the wet sound of Kyoraku licking and sucking at that skin echoing in the room, and arousal wraps around the base of his spine in a white-hot grip, makes him bite down on a groan and he bucks his hips forward. 

With a gasp, Ukitake pulls back, opening his mouth to run the flat of his tongue against the crown of Isshin’s cock, hot and wet. Isshin’s grip in his hair must be painful at this point, but Ukitake just looks starry-eyed as he leans down to suck the loose skin of Isshin’s sac between his teeth. Sweat beads on Isshin’s chest, and tightening his grip in that perfect white hair, he reaches his free hand to claw at Ukitake’s shoulder. His nails dig in, angry red stripes blooming on Ukitake’s alabaster skin, and Isshin feels a bone-deep satisfaction at marking him so. Trembling, Ukitake lets out another moan, mouth rising up to suckle at the tip of Isshin’s cock, blush high on his cheeks. 

“He’s beautiful like that, isn’t he?” Kyoraku asks in a husky voice, untying his own obi. He steps out of his hakama, brings a hand to stroke his cock as he regards his lover stretched out before them. “So beautiful.” His eyes sparkle, raking over Ukitake’s form, and the warmth there is nearly off-putting, so much that Isshin wonders if he’s intruding even as Ukitake licks and sucks at his shaft. But after a moment, Kyoraku falls back to his knees, turns his smiling gaze back to Isshin before he says, “You should probably tell him so.”

Something warm curls low in Isshin’s stomach, and indulgently, he caresses Ukitake’s jaw with his free hand. It should feel odd, he’s so much _younger_ than Ukitake, but Ukitake leans into the touch all the same, looking up at him like the men and women whom Isshin has taken to bed before. All of them had looked at him this same way, craving a gentle word and a strong, guiding touch. He fucks his hips forward, tracing his fingers along the stretch of Ukitake’s lips around his cock, wet with saliva and precome. “You do look beautiful like this,” he says, thumb pressed to Ukitake’s bottom lip as he fucks that willing mouth. He flashes him a dirty grin. “But I think you already knew that.”

There’s a high-pitched whine caught in Ukitake’s throat, vibrating around Isshin’s shaft, and Isshin can barely hold back a groan of his own as he uses his hand in Ukitake’s hair to pull him closer. The crown of his cock pushes against the back of Ukitake’s throat again, and Ukitake snakes up a hand to dig into Isshin’s hip, hard enough that Isshin imagines he’ll have welts in the shape of those slender fingers. It’s pleasurable but almost painful, to the point that Isshin shifts his gaze to see Kyoraku entering Ukitake, pushing in slowly with a low, ragged gasp. Ukitake is _shaking_ , strands of brilliant white hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, and bottoming out, Kyoraku turns a hazy, brilliant smile Isshin’s way. 

“Think he can handle both of us?” he teases, hands around Ukitake’s hips in a crushing grip, so tight that Isshin can see where his knuckles go white. “Look at you,” he tells Ukitake beneath him, voice so low that Isshin isn’t sure that he’s meant to hear it, “look how perfect you are for us.” Kyoraku pulls out fractionally, then uses his grip to slam back into Ukitake hard and fast. Ukitake yelps for it, pulled back onto Kyoraku’s cock, and his hand moves to fist in the fabric of Isshin’s kosode. He moves his mouth back up the length of Isshin’s cock, whining when Kyoraku pistons his hips, fucking him deep.

Every push of Kyoraku’s hips fucks Ukitake further up Isshin’s cock, saliva dripping freely from his mouth as he sweeps his tongue along the shaft, and a groan tears its way from Isshin’s throat, scraping his vocal cords raw. He can’t keep his own hips still, grip like a vice in Ukitake’s hair when he fucks forward into that warm mouth. He can barely hear the sweet nothings Kyoraku mutters as he thrusts into Ukitake’s body, wide, tanned hands spreading across the pale slope of his back. Like this, Isshin can feel the head of his cock hitting against Ukitake’s throat with every buck of his hips, and the searing heat of Ukitake’s mouth on his skin drags him closer to his own climax. 

Kyoraku must see him struggling to hold himself back, because he just chuckles, leaning forward to drape himself over Ukitake’s back, whispering in his ear. “Look at him, trying so hard to keep himself in check. Do you see him struggling, Jushiro?” At the suggestion, Ukitake’s eyes flick upwards to look at Isshin, and a spark jolts through Isshin’s blood at the heat laid plain there, eyes glassy and face red as he moves his slick mouth up and down Isshin’s shaft. Isshin’s heart stutters in his chest, heat washing over him as he fucks harder into Ukitake’s mouth, hips straining with the motion and breath hitching at the little whimpers Ukitake makes when he slams against his throat. Kyoraku watches the display, licking at the shell of Ukitake’s ear even as he fucks into him. “Take him apart, my love,” he whispers, fingers skirting the column of Ukitake’s throat, like he can feel where Isshin’s cock is buried so deep there. “Make him come.” 

Ukitake whines, then closes his eyes as his throat relaxes around the intrusion of Isshin’s cock. Hands shaking, Isshin curses under his breath, sweat beading at his temples and chest as he fucks forward into Ukitake’s hot mouth, groaning when Ukitake slides his tongue along the shaft with a whimper. He’s so close, body tensing in anticipation as his hips move, and when Ukitake moans, throat rumbling around Isshin’s cock, he curses, lets his orgasm crash over him in a deafening wave. He has enough presence of mind to drag his hips back from Ukitake’s throat as his cock twitches, feels himself spurt onto Ukitake’s tongue as white-hot pleasure floods his veins, every muscle locked rigid and tight. There’s something constricting his chest when Ukitake looks up at him with glittering eyes, mouth sliding free of his cock, and Isshin has the most intense urge to pull him up for a kiss. 

Kyoraku beats him to it. With a loud groan, he snakes an arm around Ukitake’s middle, pulling them both upright on their knees. Like this, Isshin can see how rosy the tip of Ukitake’s prick is, dripping precome as Kyoraku fucks into him. “Let me taste,” Kyoraku purrs, hand gripping Ukitake’s chin to pull him in for a filthy, opened-mouthed kiss. Isshin has a perfect view, and his stomach drops, hands shaking when he realizes that Ukitake held his come in his mouth. A low breath escapes him as he watches them kiss, tongues sliding over each other and sharing his come between them. It’s messy and _wet_ , makes Ukitake moan when Kyoraku sucks on his tongue, and already Isshin can feel his spent cock twitching in a valiant effort to get up again. 

But he’s too enchanted by the sight of Ukitake trembling in front of him, so he shuffles closer, mouth descending to suck kisses on his collarbone while he wraps his fingers around Ukitake’s cock. Ukitake gives him a cry, the sound muffled by Kyoraku’s lips, and as Isshin strokes him, Ukitake throws his arms around Isshin’s shoulders to pull him closer. He breaks his kiss with Kyoraku, turning to seal his mouth over Isshin’s. Twisting his hand on the upstroke, Isshin kisses Ukitake back, mouth opening to lick along the back of Ukitake’s teeth. Ukitake shudders against him, fingers digging into the muscle of Isshin’s shoulder as Kyoraku fucks him, pace hard and intense. 

“Just like that,” Kyoraku says, voice straining as his cock pounds into Ukitake. “You feel perfect like this.” Isshin kisses Ukitake all the while, one hand sliding down to caress the lithe muscle of Ukitake’s stomach. Ukitake keens when that hand rises to pluck at a nipple, tongue flicking into Isshin’s mouth in small, desperate laps that make Isshin groan. He strokes Ukitake’s cock more firmly, more quickly, thumb occasionally dragging over the wet, sticky crown. Ukitake takes a shuddering breath, and Isshin shivers when he sees Ukitake reach back to grip at Kyoraku’s thigh, like he’s trying to fuck himself harder onto Kyoraku’s cock.

Kyoraku grips Ukitake’s hips then, pulling him down on his cock hard enough that Ukitake’s mouth breaks away from Isshin’s, and the cry that tears from his lips makes Isshin bite down on a curse. Ukitake leans back to rest his head on Kyoraku’s shoulder, panting as Kyoraku fucks him, and Kyoraku whispers filthy words that Isshin can’t make out over the sound of his own labored breathing. He strokes Ukitake’s cock in a fast rhythm, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his sternum and marring that beautiful skin by sucking bruises into his chest. 

Tears gather in the corner of Ukitake’s eyes, spine arching in a perfect curve, and Isshin can feel his cock twitch in his hand just before he comes, spending wet and hot all over Isshin’s fist. Isshin doesn’t stop stroking him through it, the sound of Ukitake’s broken whine ringing in his ears, and only when Ukitake grips his wrist does he slow his hand. Ukitake looks perfect like this, flushed and fucked out, chest heaving as he breathes, and with a filthy grin, Isshin raises his hand to his mouth, making a show of licking up Ukitake’s come from his fingers. It earns him a gasp from Ukitake, a strangled groan from Kyoraku, who fucks into Ukitake at an increasingly ragged pace, balls smacking against his ass with every push. 

Kyoraku’s grip on Ukitake’s hip turns white-knuckled as he comes, burying himself deep in Ukitake’s ass as he shudders through it. Ukitake whines, turns his head to catch Kyoraku’s lips in a kiss. It breaks after a moment, and Kyoraku fixes Isshin with an intense look before reaching out to cup the back of his head and dragging their mouths together, Ukitake crushed between them. Isshin makes a small sound into his mouth as Kyoraku’s tongue meets his, something between a groan and a hiss, and Kyoraku pulls back with a smile. “You’re right,” he rasps against Isshin’s mouth. “You should come drinking with us more often.” 

Isshin flashes a cocky grin at that. “I’ll be there,” he says, shifting to kiss Ukitake again. Ukitake sags against him as they kiss, clearly exhausted, and Kyoraku draws his hips back, cock pulling free from Ukitake’s ass. He groans as he pulls out, and Isshin breaks his kiss to see the look on Kyoraku’s face. 

It’s enraptured, eyes fixed between Ukitake’s legs, thumbs rubbing indulgently along the backs of his thighs. “You’re filthy, Jushiro,” Kyoraku teases in a soft voice, “we can’t let you sleep like this.” He looks back at Isshin, grin growing wide and dirty. “What do you say, Captain Shiba? Care to help me clean him up?”

The room is thick with the smell of come and sweat, and still Isshin can’t help the low “ _fuck_ ” that passes his lips, moving to rest on his knees behind Ukitake. He curses long and low, eyes fixed on the way Kyoraku’s come drips from Ukitake’s asshole down toward his perineum. Hands clutching at the muscle of Ukitake’s ass, he runs his tongue up the line of Ukitake’s perineum, lapping up the bitter come there. Ukitake’s skin is musky and salty with sweat, and Isshin groans for it, head swimming. Ukitake’s breath hitches even as he pushes his ass against Isshin’s face, and with a small laugh, Isshin flicks his tongue against Ukitake’s asshole, licking in earnest when Ukitake mewls. 

As he licks his way inside, Isshin watches the way Kyoraku lowers himself beside Ukitake, fingers threading through that long white hair to pull him in for a kiss. Isshin presses his lips to Ukitake’s asshole and sucks, Kyoraku’s come sliding free of his ass and coating Isshin’s tongue, and he and Ukitake moan in concert as he fucks his tongue in and out. Kyoraku moves his hand between Ukitake’s shaking legs as they kiss, gripping his cock, and Isshin realizes that it’ll be a long while before either of them are done with him. 

But that’s okay. He licks into Ukitake’s ass again, tongue dragging along the sensitive, twitching rim, and shudders at the wrecked plea that Ukitake makes against Kyoraku’s lips. 

There are worse ways to spend a night. 

*

Between Isshin’s mouth and Kyoraku’s hand, they manage to make Ukitake come twice more before collapsing into an exhausted heap on the floor. Isshin doesn’t even register where he dropped, or that at some point Kyoraku and Ukitake snuck off to tangle together on Kyoraku’s futon, waking only when the morning sun filters in through the windows. 

“Shit!” he mutters to himself, leaping up to try and locate his shihakusho. He had earnestly meant to at least glance over the new recruit assignments, but by the time he’ll make it to his division, training will have already begun. He grabs at his wrinkled kosode, figures he can at least learn about the recruits during training, but it still leaves the budget reports that are due today. He won’t have time to do them himself by this point, and vaguely, he wonders if he can personally appeal to Yamamoto for a possible extension. 

It’s a deathwish, certainly, but he entertains the idea anyway. 

“Off so soon?” Ukitake’s voice sounds behind him, interrupting his search for his hakama. Isshin’s eyes grow wide, acutely aware of the fact that Ukitake probably has an eyeful of his bare ass right now. Not that Isshin hadn’t had all that and more last night, but still. He should probably try for decorum, or something. He turns to face Ukitake, lips pulling down to form a hard line. Ukitake is dressed in a simple sleeping yukata, looking well-rested and pulled together and not at all like he’d come three times last night. Isshin can’t help his jealousy. “At least let us fix you some tea,” Ukitake says. 

“Thanks for the offer,” Isshin says, turning away to shrug on his kosode, “but my Third Seat will skin me alive if I’m late again.” He fixes Ukitake with a grin. “Kid clearly has an embarrassing crush on me, you’d think he’d be a little more lenient.” 

Ukitake chuckles at the joke. “You would think,” he agrees, then shifts to watch Kyoraku approach. Kyoraku’s yukata is thin and ragged, undone enough that it shows the expanse of his hairy chest, and Isshin can’t help but quirk up an eyebrow in appreciation.

Kyoraku grins when he sees that, keeps his eyes on Isshin even as he pulls Ukitake in for a simmering kiss. Ukitake groans into Kyoraku’s mouth, a soft sound, and Isshin almost considers abandoning his shihakusho altogether in an effort to continue what they started last night. Kyoraku walks towards Isshin, stopping just in front of him where he kneels on the floor. He cocks his head, beckoning Ukitake to follow. “Well, you’re certainly welcome here any time,” he says, voice a contented rumble. “To share a drink, or share our bed. We’re not that picky.” 

Isshin tries and fails not to flush at that, gripping his hakama in hand. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says as coolly as he can manage. He’s about to throw on his hakama when he feels Ukitake step behind him, hands gently gripping his hips. Furrowing his brow, he looks up, eyes widening when faced with Kyoraku’s half-hard cock pushing against the thin fabric of his yukata. Already, his own cock twitches, and his dry throat clicks when he tries to swallow, looking back at the smirk plastered on Kyoraku’s face. 

“Of course,” Kyoraku begins, voice dark and full of promise, “we’d be remiss to send you back without a parting gift from Squads Eight and Thirteen.” 

He drops to his knees in front of Isshin in the name of inter-division cooperation, undoing his yukata to reveal his cock, stroking it in hand to full hardness and smirking when Ukitake leans in to pepper kisses on the side of Isshin’s neck. Isshin’s mouth waters at the sight of Kyoraku’s hand on himself, trembles under Ukitake’s mouth even as he reminds himself that Toshiro and Rangiku will set him on _fire_ if he’s even another minute late, but his resolve crumbles when Kyoraku sees his cock filling out. “I think Squad Ten can spare you for another few minutes, Captain Shiba,” Kyoraku mutters. 

What the hell, Isshin thinks, parting his lips for the swollen head of Kyoraku’s cock, groaning as Ukitake teases a finger against his asshole. He was always going to leave the paperwork to Toshiro, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter @lament4boromir for more screeching about my bad taste!


End file.
